High Above
by Mari83
Summary: Max's search for some peace on the Space Needle is interrupted by a seizure and Alec… Now COMPLETE with Logan's POV. Lisa0316's story for a past Jampony Ficathon at LJ. Early S2, M/L, Alec-friendly.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_: I don't own Dark Angel

_**A/N**_:**Lisa0316's** story for the **Jampony Ficathon at LJ**.

Her prompts were:  
_Logan and Alec working together to solve a problem_  
_Some good ol' fashioned ML smut_ (Sorry, total failure here)  
_Logan has to rescue Max from a dangerous situation_

Beaming over _**Shywr1ter**_ for a shopping trip in pre-Easter Marzipan heaven for the faster-than-you-can-look X5-speed beta and helping me with my first attempt of writing Alec.

Timeline: In between 'Bag'em' and 'Proof of Purchase'

xxxxx

**High Above**

xxxxxxx

**Alec**

He hadn't exactly followed Max, just hung around in her part of the city, figuring he might just as well learn how to get around from an almost-native.

It wasn't like he couldn't survive on his own or was unprepared for the world beyond Manticore's walls and electro-fences. In the months before his first mission he had been briefed on the most trivial details and trained for all possible situations, from a casual conversation to the subtle art of dealing with the opposite sex.

But back then being on the outside had had a specific purpose and structure, hadn't left him with an abundance of leisure time and the need to somehow earn a living.

Now… he was just bored, didn't know what to do with his days after his most basic needs, of food and sleep, had been taken care of.

Fully aware that Max knew of his presence, Alec observed from his noncommittal distance how effortlessly she slipped back into her old life, happily welcomed by friends and colleagues as one of them. With the tired superiority of someone more weathered by life, the disillusioned cynic in him laughed about her childish illusion of belonging … and still, on that irrational level where he allowed himself to play with the what-ifs of a different life, he admired her for having built such a perfect network of normalcy.

He wondered where Max had acquired that strange idealism she'd shown these past weeks helping the kids, her strange belief that those highly effective child soldiers could be transformed into valuable members of society by simply baptizing them with civilain names. Seeing her act with such natural responsibility had forced him to ponder why she had become an optimist when his own experiences with life on the outside had only made him a misanthropic stranger who didn't belong to either world.

She was a living legend, no question. All of her group had been, the myth of their escape passed on to younger generations with the grudging and admiration of those left behind to bear the consequences.

Then, four months ago, gossip had claimed that two of the '09 escapees were back at Manticore, caught in a rather amateurish attack against a whole building complex of perfectly trained transgenics.

For some weeks it had been the number one topic of their whispered discussions how one of them, 452, had been rushed, in severely injured, saved only by 599's suicide, which seemed like such a crazy act of self-abandonment to them.

With the fatalistic acceptance of those knowing that things couldn't be changed, they had coolly pitied her for coming under the director's personal attention, the older among them remembering that she had been brought up under colonel Lydecker's relatively harmless hands. And eventually she had submitted to the life as a Manticore soldier, at least on the surface, just like they all did.

xxxxxxx

In the end it was just plain curiosity that made him follow Max and her dark expression to the Space Needle.

He wondered what it meant to her. After all, she had never experienced those better times when buildings like this had attracted a never-ending stream of tourists. Probably, Alec thought with a sarcastic smirk, it was simply one of those sentimental habits she had acquired in her years of feigning normalcy.

He found her out on the platform, shaking violently with one of the seizures Manticore had so graciously built into some of them.

"Max…" Her name had slipped out before he could control himself, not caring what she might think at his seeing her losing control over her limbs, so close to an abyss of several hundred feet.

She turned her head just enough to give him a look of surprised hope, her mouth forming the name of his clone.

He was confronted with an unfiltered confusion on her face that seemed so alarmingly wrong for someone who like him had learned early to hide any treacherous emotion. As he coolly observed how realization set in, Alec hated her for comparing him with her brother, who despite his obvious failings had meant so much to her. He despised her for subconsciously measuring him by the fond memories of a childhood companion, for not considering the endless battery of tests and procedures that Ben's killing spree had meant for the person sharing his genetic make-up.

But her weakness lasted only for a few seconds, the exhaustion of the seizure weakening her ability to effectively shield her emotions. As Max's gaze hardened with a roughly uttered "Go away" that under different circumstances would have sounded intimidating, her face had nothing but cold resentment for the stranger looking like her brother.

Alec was smart enough not to take seriously something said in her depleted state, sufficiently hardened by years of emotional abuse to ignore that minuscule, irrational needling her behavior caused anyway. Shoving away his irritation, he broke with his resolution of getting as far away as possible from anything Manticore. "Forgot your tryptophan?"

"Thing is, when people think you're dead they throw away your meds." Her ironic laugh came out as a rough hiccup, sabotaging the effort to keep away the bitterness.

He smirked nevertheless, wry amusement both at her attempt of black humor and his own imagination hurrying ahead and already seeing himself getting arresting for breaking into a pharmacy. Still not sure why he was making Max his good deed of the week, Alec finally asked, "Nobody else who could have a bottle?"

The look she gave him said everything. Lost longing and aching sadness, the desperate hopelessness of an impossible love, everything but her usual disguise of smart toughness. It was an attitude he easily recognized it as his own for numbing the painful experiences caused by those who had thought it to be a good idea to equip their little toy soldier with emotions.

Logan.

The crazy rich guy with the walking machine who was so madly in love with her that he was willing to bring down Manticore just by himself, the pitiable ordinary who had become a part of Renfro's twisted plan to kill Eyes Only and break X5 452 in one elegant move.

Before Alec could say anything the professional blankness which they had beaten into all of them took over Max's face, wiping away any remainder of frail vulnerability. Resting her chin on her knees, she averted her face to put her focus into keeping her wracked body together.

If someone had happened to watch the two isolated silhouettes against the grey afternoon sky, the male's seemingly indifferent distance to the female's suffering must have seemed cold and cruel. However, a person familiar with their dysfunctional upbringing would have recognized his behavior as just his social awkwardness from having been denied, after the escape of their clone group, any kind of human contact outside of drill hours.

So, hampered by all the missed years of normal companionship, Alec concentrated on practical matters and tried to come up with a plan. Dismissing the option of just dragging her inside while her limbs were jerking uncontrollably, he decided on passive waiting for now, tensely relying on his reflexes to kick in if her shaking got her into real danger.

xxxxxxxxx to be continued xxxxxxxxx


	2. Max

_**Disclaimer**_: I don't own Dark Angel.

_**A/N**_: Originally, before I got distracted by other stuff and took so long to update, part 2 of Lisa0316's story for that Jam Pony ficathon over at LJ…

Many thanks to _**Shywr1ter**_ for her suggestions and mistake-finding and answering my confused questions. All remaining oddities are mine.

--

**Max**

--

For a moment she thought Ben was back, calling her name from somewhere behind her back. The worried voice was that of the sweetly caring brother of her childhood, free of the insane obsession characterizing their last encounters. Seeing him sight of him standing there, his tall, handsome appearance triggering surreal memories of Ben's boyishly smirking younger self, Max could feel herself starting to smile…

Then her seizure-fogged brain kicked in, connecting the familiar face with the annoying character of her supposed breeding partner. He was listed way up in the list of people Max didn't want to see right now.

Completely lacking the willingness to hide her aversion, she spat out an angry "Go away," her harshness breaking out with the intention of forcing him to leave. Her words, however, didn't seem to have any impact on Alec's usual smugness and the only reason Max knew that they'd affected him was her own familiarity with the game of putting off people.

And so, aware that soon she might need more than that emergency dose of tryptophan from her jacket pocket, she resigned herself to his presence, telling herself that she should be thankful that he'd found her and that treating him with minimum politeness wouldn't kill her after all.

But all Max had wanted were some quiet moments alone with her misery after the craziness of the last several weeks. It had been one thing after the other, never leaving her a break to look back and catch up…. her escape, the shock and helplessness of seeing Logan almost die right before her eyes, learning about the virus, rescuing the kids, Manticore's new villain with the crazy idea that her DNA was even wackier than that of the others…

And even in those rare hours when she just ignored her new responsibilities to plunge into the familiar world of Crash and Jam Pony, she couldn't simply be Max the bike messenger. The incredulous excitement about her sudden rise from the dead followed her around like her own shadow, excited whispers buzzing around her as the news spread. Everywhere she went, Max was confronted with people hugging her, wanting to know what had happened, where she had been, how she could possibly be back... It was an overwhelming thrill to know that so many people had missed her – and yet, as she repeated the story of her heart transplant over and over, the old weariness and strain of her double life that kept her from really enjoying all the excitement.

Before, she just would have visited Logan, knowing that with him she could just forget everything for a few, precious hours of food and smiles …. but now she didn't even have this comfort anymore. So Max had turned to her old sanctuary, the first signs of the shakes creeping up on her as she made her way up the stairs of the Space Needle.

But at least she had been alone, finding some peace in the calming sight of the wide, open sky over the city that was so liberating after Manticore's stifling cells and narrow corridors… until, after having stuck around lately like a blurred figure in the background of a photo, Alec had shown up, breaching the last remainder of her privacy here in the one place she could find it.

Max knew it was neither fair nor true to make him the scapegoat for all that had gone wrong with her life in the last few months, but right now she just didn't care. Right now, there was only her seizure, transforming her otherwise so efficient body into an aching mess, only made worse by the fact that she couldn't go over to Logan and let his cool hands soothe her, carefully stroking her hair as he'd done before.

Right now, in a state in which reasonable knowledge didn't matter, she despised Alec, simply because he was alive and Ben wasn't, because he was going through life with such a nonchalant ease that was the very opposite of the dark, pondering seriousness that made things so hard for Ben. Alec had fooled her into trusting him, had tried to kill Logan, had known of the virus and hadn't warned her: he had….

"Forgot your tryptophan?" Alec's voice, coolly pretending to not really care, interrupted her self-absorbed misery.

As she gave him a snorted attempt at laughter, Max admitted to herself that his cynical egotism wasn't that far from her own attitude. Maybe she was so easily irritated with his selfish, immature behavior because she might have become just like that that herself, had she not escaped from Manticore. But still, right here and now, she simply didn't want to acknowledge any of those insights, still refusing to treat him like the reluctantly caring person he'd turned out to be in the woods the week before. "Thing is, when people think you're dead they throw away your meds."

Her smart remark had meant to brush him off… but he saw right through her, his quietly pondering smirk suddenly making him much more likeable.

And even though only seconds ago it had seemed like such a good idea to blame him for every evil in the universe, now Max was tired of it. She'd made it so easy for him to walk away, trying to run him off with more hostility than even he deserved… and still Alec had stayed, reluctant and awkward, his fidgeting nervousness badly covered with cool, military detachment. His wordless refusal to leave told Max more about his character than any of his attempts at playing the tough guy: a true Manticore soldier would have obeyed its perverted philosophy of leaving behind the sick and injured long before now.

It was because she'd allowed herself to relax and soften up towards him for a second that his question hit her so hard.

"Nobody else who could have a bottle?"

Logan…

She just wanted to be with him, in the Penthouse's comfort, warm and fed and happy and back in her old life that now seemed so wonderfully uncomplicated. She had tried so hard to stay optimistic in the last weeks, to believe in a better future, despite Manticore and the virus, Ben's and Tinga's death, despite her fears for Zack's life after leaving him behind with the people for whom he was only an assembly of spare parts. But underneath her thoroughly upbeat smile it had all been there…. the hopelessness and insecurity, the anger about everything they had taken, the helpless fear at the mere impossibility of finding a cure now that every sensible scientist was on the run...

Behind her Max could hear Alec's breath catch for an instant, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to deal with her alarmingly unfiltered emotionality. And so again she made it easy for him, toughening up her features to that of the blank-faced soldier so deeply engrained into them all.

Then, after another moment of silence, she heard him retreat quietly… and even though she just wanted to be alone, even though he had every right to turn away in annoyed frustration, Max almost missed his company.

-- to be continued --


	3. Logan

**_Disclaimer_**: See chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ Finally finishing this, after only two years... To the 2008 Seattle crowd!

**Logan**

**The Penthouse,**** 9:30 PM**

Alec's call came completely out of the blue, catching Logan when he'd finally managed to focus on an anonymous Eyes Only file, far from the whole depressing mess of virus and Manticore.

It was his regular phone that drilled into his concentration, the landline that connected him to the world simply as Logan Cale, journalist and reclusive lost nephew. Hands refusing to return the keyboard, Logan was tempted to just let it ring. In all likelihood it was just Aunt Margo with her disdain over his last missed family gathering. But ever since Max's death he had been unable to ignore phone and doorbell, always hoping for a miracle…

He immediately recognized Alec's voice. In a disorienting reflex it brought back the nightmare unfolding after Max's kiss, his memories vague and alarming.

_Logan hadn't paid attention to the first signs of not feeling well, putting down the sudden dizziness to the big rush of Max being back, alive, her skin tingling under his fingers. Just seconds later though, as he collapsed with a strange, disorienting fatigue, he knew that something was wrong, seriously wrong. The world around him started __to spin, y__et even__ through the swooshing echo of his own pulse he could clearly hear a stranger's voice, disinterested and almost a bit amused. "__You killed him..."_

_Then there was Max's voice, slipping from frantic anger into panic. She sounded faraway,__ surreal as in his dreams, but even in hi__s fever haze Logan registered enough of the guy's answer to understand their catastrophic meaning. Retrovirus. His DNA. Max..._

_T__he last thing he remembered __was__ the stranger again, countering Max's loathing with the cynic boredom of someone who'd never learnt to care. "__Fine. Fine, but when he's dead, can I go home?"_

"Logan? You there?

Logan's answer was short and clipped, the feeling of helpless inferiority still lingering. "Yeah. What do you want?"

The brief silence on the other end was long enough for Logan to regret his harshness. And still, Alec's smooth reply was quick enough to fool anybody not familiar with Max's flippancy. "Just thought you might want to know… I run into Max on the Space Needle. Looks like she's having the shakes."

**The**** Space Needle, 10 PM**

Logan had a lot of time to think as he climbed the stairs of the Space Needle, the exo's monotone whirring testing his patience. Yet even if he'd given more than just a passing thought to the possibility that Alec's call was some kind of trap, even if he hadn't just trusted his instinct and the uneasy urgency in Alec's voice... even then the idea of Max up there alone, no longer coming to him for comfort, would have made him head out without caring for the consequences.

Finally he reached the last step, the way up so much longer when there was a purpose. The heavy door separating the staircase from the former visitor center no longer existed and so Logan directly stepped into the panorama of nightly Seattle, still impressive behind the splintered windows.

He only noticed Alec because he knew to expect him, somewhere there between the unmoving silhouettes that stood out against the grey sky. Casually leaning against one of the broken, dusty displays that had once attracted the tourists, the other man seemed indifferent to the sparkling skyline behind him, his eyes focused onto the door.

If he felt uneasy in his role as Max's guardian, Alec's carefully composed tone didn't give him away. Skipping his usual smart comments, he simply tipped his head towards the roof. "She's still up there, a bit better by the sound of it."

Even though he was edgy with the image of Max shivering in the cold, Logan paused, catching his breath as he gave the other man a long, appraising look. Under the shades of grey, gloomy light that filtered onto his face Alec looked tired, worn-out….

Ever since that night of Max's return, Logan had instinctively encountered Alec with a feeling of defensive caution. It wasn't just the way they'd met or not knowing why the transgenic hadn't killed him, it wasn't even that Alec had just watched as Max had infected him with the virus. More subtly, Alec's cynic nonchalance had something that made Logan uncomfortably aware of his abilities, of the assignments and missions he must have gone through to become so assimilated to the outside.

Without Zack's stoic predictability or Tinga's protective smile for Case, Alec reminded Logan of Max's deriding smartness early on, only that this time it couldn't be disarmed with a charming smile. Only that with Alec he couldn't see the softness underneath, couldn't find that stubborn, sentimental yearning for her siblings. With Alec, Logan had never see that irritating suaveness fail.

Now though he wasn't so sure. Looking at the other man, noting how he still wore the same clothes in which he'd last seen him, Logan was reminded of those barely grown-up teenagers who populated the streets now, keeping themselves save with hard, unforgiving faces.

As Logan's gaze lingered, the other man shifted his position, fidgeting almost in guarded unrest as if he didn't know how to counter such calm, wordless interest. His voice was hoarse as he ended their mutual taxing, lacking that unconcerned self-assuredness of their first encounters. „I'll be around another minute, in case you need a hand for getting her down safely."

Nodding his thanks, Logan turned around to the hidden maintenance ladder leading up to the roof, fleetingly wondering whether Alec's pride would accept some help with settling down.

xxxx

Max.

With her shaking back to him, all Logan could see was the familiar leather jacket, covered with tousled strands of hair that was regaining some of its old curl up here in the humid breeze. Even though she must have heard them, she didn't move at the sound of his boots on the steel, maybe worn out from the seizure… or awkward with his presence, unsure how to react…

Logan sighed, briefly wondering it trying to put his arm around her shoulders would scare her enough to throw them both over the edge. Instead he did the best he could, forcing himself to forget how good it would feel to touch her.

"You know… that's my spot." Keeping out the worry and strain now always between them, his voice was light and affectionate in his attempt to make it easy for her.

As if she'd waited for him to speak up, Max turned her head, her face a puzzle of darkness and light. Logan had expected her to display that withdrawn distance so typical for her in times of distress, now magnified a hundred times by the virus. But there was none of it. Looking disturbingly young and tired, she smiled at him, just faintly but not bothering to hide the warmth in her eyes…

Logan had to force himself not to give her a wide, dazzling grin in return, reminding himself that she probably just mirrored his own relief. And still… for the first time in weeks her delight over seeing him seemed to outweigh the fear… for the first time since she'd started to retreat there seemed to be a reason to believe that things would work out.

Holding her gaze for a moment, he covered the few steps between them, then averted his eyes, keeping things light as he concentrated on sitting down on the steep, slippery surface. Being this close to the edge gave him the familiar, numbing rush of vertigo, so welcome in the last months… only that now with Max's presence he couldn't savor it anymore. Just the knowledge that she was back had changed everything, from early in the morning when he decided not to let his stubble become a beard until dinner time when he took the time to plan a meal just because she might come over.

Logan's absent smile lingered as he fumbled in the pockets of his jacket for the items awkwardly stowed there. Choosing a safe distance that wouldn't scare her, he put down a half-empty bottle of Tryptophan on the cold surface between them.

He waited for a moment, hiding his relief as she swallowed a handful of pills without hesitation. Then his fingers slid into his pocket again, presenting the small milk carton he'd hastily grabbed as an afterthought before leaving the apartment, together with that last, half-melted chocolate bar he'd kept for special occasions.

His helpless gesture was the closest he could come to physical comfort, a weak attempt to bring some of the Penthouse's soothing calm. But it seemed to work, Logan noted as he allowed himself to watch just long enough to catch her smirk at his familiar feeding habits. It was this tired glimpse of the old, up-beat Max that he'd hoped to see, if nothing else restoring what they'd had before.

And there was more, a new, tender thoughtfulness emerging from this first quiet moment together since she'd come back, only to be engaged in a parade of missions and emergencies. Now finally it was just the two of them and simply sitting here felt like a truce in their new pattern of her running away and his attempts to make her stay.

Unwilling to destroy their rare moment of peace, Logan focused on a single light in the distance, the silent testimony of someone kept up alone there in one of the high-rise towers. Below them, the city looked almost peaceful. Like a precious miniature world, it stretched out under the glow of the moon that seemed so much closer up here. Its pale, placid light let the water come alive in a mosaic of serene, shining vastness, a pattern unharmed by a luckless decade.

The sight of Seattle at night was nothing new for Logan. Unlike his boyhood room in the Cale mansion, providing him only with suburban green, the Penthouse's wide glass fronts exposed him to the city day and night, its defective skyline a perpetual reminder of his responsibility. With the city in front of him and the ever-present whirring of his computers from behind, there was no escape from Eyes Only, no running away from those needing help.

Up here though, the city's former grandeur shone through the brokenness like a promise of hope. Touching an almost forgotten inspiration, the muted view calmed him with its vow that things would get better, even if things seemed hopelessly bleak.

Sensing more than that he saw how Max's shaking abated, Logan finally spoke, still keeping his tone light. "I could never really understand why you came here, how you could find some kind of peace and perspective when all I saw from my windows was brokenness. The Needle just seemed to be a part of it, a cynic proof of how things had been, of the light carefree life we'd had, the disappointments ever since." Logan paused, thinking of how different that life had been, of all the things that had changed. "But after you we're… gone… I came up here, trying to see what you had seen."

Trying to find her…

_He needed to get away from the penthouse where everything reminded him of Max, everything from the kitchen stool still arranged in an angle to watch h__im cook to the rest of milk turning sour in the fridge, from her extra clothes folded neatly on his dryer to the tiny bag of curry powder she'd somehow sneaked into his cupboard, almost brea__king him when he found it. Even his bedroom, a space untouched by her imprints, was invaded by a procession of vivid daydreams that continued to materialize as if nothing had happened. _

_Yet even while running from all the memories he wanted to be close to her, erratically driving through the streets in his search for the impossible. Of course he ended up at the Needle, its provoking profile drawing him closer in concentric circles. It was the last place where they'd been together, before hope and fear had tilted towards the catastrophe. So he went up and solemnly occupied her place, finding comfort in imaginin__g how often she must have sat here while he stared down at the city from his own ivory tower, both of them a__wake and dreaming._

Max still hadn't said a word, hadn't even nodded at his explanations. But Logan didn't need these confirmations to know that she was listening. And so he kept talking, his voice a soothing flow between them as he lulled her with childhood memories of a different, happier Seattle.

Sensing how her shaking calmed down, Logan finally allowed himself to tip his head to the side to just watch her. He took in how she sat there in that vulnerable, self-hugging pose, with her arms around her knees, noted the glassy, faraway stare that was the first sign of her after-seizure drowsiness. As always when he witnessed that very core of Max, stripped from all pretenses, Logan just wanted to hug protect her, to caress her and softly stroke her hair… yet now, after having lost her, it was overwhelming, almost a physical urge.

But it was impossible and so he simply stood up, offering his out-stretched arm with the securely gloved hand. "The sheets on the guest bed haven't been changed for a while… but who knows, there might be some kind of culinary miracle waiting for you when you wake up…"

He did his best to sound calm and confident but on the inside all he could do was to hope that the reminiscence of their familiar pattern would be enough to lure her back.

As she looked up, her eyes blank with impossibility, Logan thought for a second that he'd ruined it. Her gaze flickered away from him, restlessly searching for something down there in the light-dotted darkness and leaving him to helplessly scrutinize her face.

The moment she was on her feet though, Max's eyes were back on him, focusing on Logan with an intensity that seemed to question everything he had said, all he had meant… daring him to look away and lose her. Knowing better than to let go, he felt her hand on his, breaking the taboo. Hesitant at first, her grip became firm and confident, enclosing his hand as if she was making a promise, confirming a vow. Before Logan had time to react, her hand was already sliding out of his, fingers tracing his arm with a trace of that old, playful cockiness. Then the last opportunity to keep her close was gone and Logan stayed behind, watching Max make her way back to the inside.

xxx The end (finally) xxx

Sorry Lisa, failing on the smut-part, but in my little fantasy world the cure is just around the corner and then...


End file.
